


Of Mine

by MeiJelly



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: AU, F/M, Inspired by artwork, M/M, MarchPrince - Freeform, Thorinduil - Freeform, Works by Mei, galion is kind of an asshole, of mine, sucks to be Galion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-12 15:03:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7939066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeiJelly/pseuds/MeiJelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a young Thorin finds himself wandering the forests of Mirkwood, he comes across the gardens of the ElvenKing, Thranduil. Mesmerized by his beauty, Thorin finds himself unwilling to leave.</p><p>What happens when Thranduil finds the Dwarfling freely walking his lands?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

Of Mine

Thranduil walked slowly through his personal gardens. Star and moonlight reflected softly up at him, shimmering in the water of the stream, the fountains, and even the dew still resting on the flower petals of his carefully tended flora. The sky was alive with bright stars and the echoed moon. He wore a silvery tunic, a train ghosting his footsteps and trailing after him. He had retired his crown earlier that evening, knowing the only ones to see him would not need such formalities at this hour. He was shrouded in a veil of starlight, and his hair shone silvery in the cool glow of midnight. 

Thranduil's fingers brushed over the flowers of the many bushes surrounding him. It had been a long day, but now he had faded into the shadows to think and to breathe clearly. 

Legolas, only a young Elf-ling now, wandered through the garden, looking for his father. He was not yet a half-century old. Spotting Thranduil, a large and radiant smile grew over his face and he rushed over to him. "Ada!" He exclaimed cheerfully. 

Thranduil turned to see his young son coming closer and he smiled back, bending slightly to open his arms wide for him. 

Legolas ran straight into his father's embrace, and was soon held close by his strong but slender arms. "Ada, guess what!" 

Chuckling, Thranduil looked curious. "What?"

"There is news that Haldir is coming soon!"

Unaware of his friend's imminent visit, Thranduil grinned widely, "Oh, he is?"

Legolas nodded enthusiastically. "Galion has gotten word that he will arrive in only a few days!"

Thranduil had been about to respond, when a suddenly contemplative and curious look came over Legolas's face. "What is it?"

"Do you think Lady Galadriel will be visiting soon? And Lord Celeborn?" Legolas asked, eyes slightly wide. 

Thranduil laughed a bit. "No, I do not think so. If you would like, I will extend an invitation for Mereth Nuin Gilliath."

Legolas nodded eagerly. "Can Celeborn and Haldir sleep in the halls near my room?"

Thranduil chuckled, but nodded. "This time, however, I would like Haldir to be nearest me, Henig."

Thranduil walked quietly with his son, enjoying his energy and enthusiasm. For a long time they walked, until the morning sky grew a lovely pink and orange to match the section of rose bush Legolas particularly adored. 

Thranduil parted from his son, unaware that they had been seen that night, by someone very unlikely.

He returned to his throne, to complete his duties as ElvenKing and father.


	2. II

Thorin wandered about Mirkwood, revelling in its golden daylight. It was a beautiful place, and he wasn't completely sure how he had found the ElvenKing's palace, but he did. He did not go near it, though. Elves and Dwarves were known to have a fragile relationship.

Despite Thorin only being a Dwarfling, still less than half his average lifespan, he didn't want to be accused of being a spy. And being the grandson of Thrór, King Under the Mountain, did not help. He crept quietly through the forest, staying hidden from sight. 

It grew to be night, and despite Thorin's tiredness from walking the forest all day, he caught a glimpse of the beautiful gardens of the King.

He did not have the best view, and decided he would climb the nearest tree to watch the moonlit water spill over the great marble fountains, only to run through small streams on the ground, under and around bushes and trees. 

He watched the nighttime birds flit through the trees and swoop down the rest on the fountains, then bathe themselves in the water. Their small bodies made ripples in the moonlit water, which were mesmerizing to watch. Silver rings flowed outward from the birds, making the sound of the water become slightly distorted as it flowed over the lip of the fountain. 

Then he saw him. The ghostly silver figure that emerged from the balcony entrance to the garden. He was even more ethereal than all the other Elves he had seen this day. His hair practically twinkled like the stars above him, the moonlight creating what looked like a halo of light around him. He walked with a grace and air of authority like none Thorin had ever seen or even heard of. His breath hitched in his throat as he watched the tall and slender figure come to the edge of the garden nearest to Thorin. 

He watched him for hours, unable to turn away from the beauty that was in front of him. Despite being so far away, he could still see the piercing blue of the man's eyes. He determined that this must be the King. No other could be this perfect. 

Then, he saw the King turn, bending slightly, hearing the voice of another. He saw another Elf, who looked to be his son. He watched as the King and his son embraced, then walked together, speaking for a long time. The King held his son closely as they tarried through the garden. Then, at sunrise, the King left. His son followed closely, and Thorin, seeing them depart, finally felt the heaviness of his body. He was so much more tired than only a moment ago. 

It was a strange sensation, but he found a nook in the meeting of three large boughs in his tree, and curled up. Soon, he was asleep.


	3. Chapter III

Haldir was to arrive within a day and to Thranduil's surprise, it seemed his son was much more excited about his visit than he himself was. 

He watched as Legolas sat restlessly, then stood, beginning to pace. Seeing his son so anxious for his friends arrival was rather entertaining, however, he did find the pacing rather unsettling. After a few moments he stood from his throne, walking with his staff toward Legolas. He leaned his staff against a large pillar and gently took his sons shoulders in his hands and gripped them slightly. 

"Legolas, I understand that you are anxious for Haldir to arrive, but I must request that you cease your pacing," Thranduil said more softly, but with a firm undertone. 

Legolas took a breath and nodded, "Yes. I apologize, Ada. I forgot how much you disliked pacing." 

Thranduil released his sons shoulders, "There is a hunt today. Ride out for a few hours. Haldir will not be here till suppertime. Go."

Seeing the gears working in Legolas's mind, he gave him a bit of a nudge. "Go on, Henig, I will send for you if he comes sooner than expected."

Slowly, Legolas nodded. "Very well, Ada. I will return soon." 

And with that Thranduil was left to himself.

Haldir arrived just when Thranduil had said he would. It was nearly suppertime, and Thranduil greeted his friend fondly. There would be a feast this night, welcoming the Marchwarden of Lothlórien. 

"Mellon nin, I have found myself saddened by your absence, and rejoice in your return," Thranduil smiled, embracing his friend firmly. 

Haldir smiled back, gripping onto his friend, "I have missed you too, Thranduil." 

When they pulled away, he noticed Haldir's expression. He was searching for something. He smirked. "Legolas will be here shortly, Haldir. Do not worry yourself. I have sent for him."

Haldir's gaze flitted away from Thranduil in slight embarrassment. There was even a bit of color on the Marchwarden's cheeks.

"If it eases you, my friend, he was very anxious to greet you. I sent him on a hunt, his pacing was to drive me mad."

Haldir laughed, "You? Mad? When was that ever questioned?"

Thranduil returned the laughter, shaking his head, "You do not change."

They spent their time awaiting the young prince in laughter and good company. 

Soon, Legolas arrived and grinned seeing the Marchwarden. "Haldir!"

Haldir turned, pausing his laughter. He smiled to the prince happily. "Ah, Legolas." 

Legolas came toward Haldir, opening his arms, and the two have a fond embrace. Thranduil smiled at the two of them. 

"Come, we have a feast. We mustn't let it grow cold," Thranduil said, gesturing for the two to follow them. "I have reserved the feast in my gardens, as I know you love them so, Mellon nin." 

Grinning madly, Haldir caught up to Thranduil. "You grace me with your gifts," he teased, nudging the ElvenKing's arm playfully. 

That night they spent well. They feasted and drank of the finest of wines, and it became apparent to Legolas why the Marchwarden did not have more than a few goblets of Dorwinion wine.


	4. IV

Thorin slept until early evening wedged in his tree, and for the following days he waited nearby hoping to catch a glimpse of the sliver ghosting figure he had seen in the garden. 

He wondered if anyone at home would be worried about where he'd run off to. He decided that he would return to Erebor in a few nights. If he did not see the ElvenKing in two days, he would start his journey home. 

Though he wished to go home, he found he was unwilling to leave the forest, or even the vicinity of the ElvenKing's palace. He had a deep-rooted desire--no, he had a need to see the King one last time.

Thorin was having the strangest thoughts. He wished to see the ElvenKing again, but this time closer. He no longer had such a hesitation. He wished to feel the skin of the tall and noble Elf, though such a thing was hardly possible. 

Suddenly, he was startled by the sound of mellifluous song, all around him were Elven voices. Their perfect harmonies sent chills through him, and he felt his legs grow weary and leaden. He knew that the Elves were drawing near. He desired so terribly to stay, but his mind recalled the thought of being mistaken as a spy. 

Starting off back into the forest, in the direction he supposed he had come, he moved only a little faster than a walk. He found his legs would not do otherwise. 

Soon, he had lost his way. Having no idea of where the path lay, or which direction the ElvenKing's palace was (he found the latter much more disappointing), he paused. He looked around, but he did not recognize this place. 

Despite these days being much sooner than the darkening of Mirkwood, Thorin felt as if the trees would suffocate him. He suddenly wished he had not left home. 

Oh, Dís would give him quite the tongue-lashing should he find his way back to Erebor. 

Distantly, he could still hear the Elves singing, but couldn't determine from which direction it came. He tried to take comfort in their song. Deciding that whatever way he went, it would eventually lead him to the forest's edge, he kept walking. 

The singing died out voice by voice, but Thorin thought it had seemed somehow louder than before, was it possible he was, in fact, coming back toward the palace?

"Hello, Dwarfling," said a voice somehow familiar, harmonious and smooth as alabaster. 

Thorin could not hide the jump his body gave, his fright at being caught off-guard. He turned, trying to find the source of the voice. 

He found it. He found him.

The ElvenKing stood before him, tall and slender, resembling in more than one way a tree. He was like a willow, hair tossed slightly by the wind, but no less magnificent. He was like a pine, tall and proud. A birch, slender and pale, but golden in the sunlight. 

"Why are you wandering this wood," Suddenly the King was whispering past him, face so close to Thorin's he could reach out and touch him. "that belongs to me?" 

Thorin was trembling slightly, but he called up his Dwarvish courage and spirit. "Admiring it and all it holds," he said, trying to remember that he himself was royalty. 

Thranduil pulled away, eyeing the Dwarf suspiciously. "Never has a Dwarf been found in my lands with merely good intentions, or the desire to behold its beauty," raising a hand, the ElvenKing stood tall again. 

Though the ElvenKing had been alone while walking his lands, he could call up his Guard at any moment. He whispered something, and suddenly Thorin was being grasped by firm hands. "It seems my King wishes you to accompany us to the palace. He will question you when he returns." Said the strong voice.

The voice belonged to the Captain of the Guard of the ElvenKing. Galion, was his name. 

To Thorin's disappointment, the ElvenKing had disappeared from sight. Galion and Thorin stood for a moment, before the dark-haired Elf, regal in his own way, began pulling him away. 

Thorin yanked away from Galion's grip, "I will come by my own accord, do not handle me with such harsh care." He snapped, and Galion gave an expression such distain as could burn through iron, but he did listen. 

Within moments, Thorin was being led into the ElvenKing's palace, and taken deep into the labyrinthian halls of wood and stone.


	5. V

Thranduil had been walking at his leisure through the lands of his kingdom as rightfully were his to command.

However, it seemed something was amiss. 

Being that there were few things the ElvenKing was unaware of in his   
kingdom this was indeed a strange occurrence, and one that bothered him rather more deeply than,  
perhaps, it should have.

He continued striding through his forest, fingers slowly ghosting along tree bark, flower petals, and the foliage of his beloved shrubs. They seemed to tell him something. There was indeed someone in this wood. Someone who had never set foot here before and was now freely roaming. Legolas was with Haldir, out for a hunt, and the ElvenKing trusted his dearest friend to care for his young son. It was a pleasant day, but this did not ease his curiosity or desire to find the lurker in his wood. 

Thranduil listened closely, and silently called for the chorus of singing to cease. He sent away his guard and all who had been following his footfalls. 

He moved forward, his steps unheard as he searched.

It did not take long for the ElvenKing to find the trespasser. It was a dwarf, but young. Perhaps merely a Dwarfling. Yes, there was little age to this mountain-born being. He could sense the flow and ebb of youth emitting from him. 

"Hello, Dwarfling," Thranduil started coolly, his tone even as ever.

When the Dwarf had turned to face him, Thranduil felt something inside himself change. He did not know what, and the feeling was familiar, but somehow altogether strange. 

Soon, Thranduil had called up his guard. Galion took the attention of the Dwarf and the ElvenKing retreated, the strange feeling inside him causing unsettling emotions to arise. 

Galion had begun to bring the Dwarf back to his palace, and Thranduil was always many steps ahead of them. He needed to clear his mind before an interrogation, if that was what this would become. 

Thranduil was unsure of the result that would come from this. 

Thranduil was never unsure. Uncertainty was a feeling utterly despised by the ElvenKing. He reached his solitary garden, thankful for the lack of presence of his son and friend. 

~

 

Thorin was brought to stay guarded in the ElvenKing's throne room. Two guards restricted the only exit that would not include a risky and hopeful jump to a lower bridge-way and one the entrance from behind the throne itself. 

Part of Thorin wished that they understood he did not mean to cause harm, nor did he wish to be brought from the possible presence of the ElvenKing. He didn't dare sit, despite the lengthy wait for the Mirkwood King to show himself. He did, however, feel rather disgruntled at the idea of waiting any longer. 

After more than an hour of waiting, which felt more like three, the ElvenKing finally made his entrance.


	6. VI

Thranduil descended the passage to his throne, entering from behind the large carven seat of authority. He could see the Dwarf closely now. 

Thorin watched eager to see what the ElvenKing would say, but he wanted to make a statement. He drew his courage again, standing a little taller. "Thranduil, ElvenKing of Mirkwood," he started proudly, bowing slightly to Thranduil, "I do not bring with me any maliciousness or malevolent intent. I am Thorin, Son of Thrain, Son of Thrór. I do not wish to disrupt-,"

"I am aware that you are no spy. I had suspicions of your bloodline, and they are true. However, that does not then result in a truce. You have entered my kingdom, and must answer my questions." Thranduil stated clearly.

Thorin hesitated, unsure how to react. The young prince then nodded. "As you command," he said obligingly. He would do whatever the ElvenKing ordered, as long as that meant staying in his ethereal presence. 

Thranduil felt his lips almost twitch upward, but he forced them to still. "Why have you been trespassing in my kingdom?"

"I had been travelling through, but I had the sudden urge to stay when I came upon your palace and it's magnificent gardens," Thorin stated simply, though it almost seemed too easy. "As far as I am aware, I have not caused a disturbance." 

Eyeing Thorin suspiciously, Thranduil took one pace around him. "Any other than an Elf in this land cause disturbance. Do not be impertinent.”

Thorin felt anger grow in him, but he dared not let it out. He had no  
authority here. He was outside his kingdom, trespassing. Thranduil was  
angry with him, and that caused sadness to extinguish the rage building in him. He was causing the ElvenKing trouble. Such a beautiful creature should never be disturbed this way.

Thranduil sensed a change in the Dwarf, and slowly leaned down  
toward him. “You sense it too, Dwarfling. Your instincts are good. Tell me, would you stay in this kingdom with me? There are matters I must attend to, but your presence will give me perspective.”

Thorin's eyes widened slightly despite his attempt to be neutral. He watched the ElevenKing, trying to think over the offer before accepting, but he found his words escaped him far too eagerly for his comfort. “Yes--,'  
he said, but quickly tried to mend his reply. “It would be an honor.” He tried.

Thranduil's lips tugged upward, nearly forming the traces of a smile. The ElvenKing rarely smiled, unless Haldir or Legolas were concerned. “Very well,” he said turning to one of the guards. “ Escort our guest to the  
Birch hall. He is to stay there, be sure his needs are attended to.” Facing Thorin again, he said, “You are to stay in your suite, do not wander. I will  
send for you, if you are needed. If I deem it necessary, you will join us for supper."

Thorin finally nodded, not daring to speak. He knew his situation was already precarious, and if one word were out of place, the ElvenKing would make his life much worse than it had ever been. 

He was shown to his suite and stayed there for the remainder of the night. And Thranduil sat in his gardens, awaiting the return of his friend and son.


End file.
